


Your Kiss

by Emachinescat



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Romance, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-02
Updated: 2011-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1268272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emachinescat/pseuds/Emachinescat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana can't accuse Merlin of poisoning her without risking her own exposure, so she decides to get him killed another way. But after all is said and done, can she let Merlin die…especially after her heart's reaction when she pressed her lips to his?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own, for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Enjoy :)

_"This has to stop. The King would have your head if he knew… [about] your affections for the Lady Morgana."  
 **~ Arthur, "The Nightmare Begins"**_

Her hand shot out from the small alcove in the corridor, skin smooth and delicate, nails perfectly shaped, her grip surprisingly strong. Merlin let out a small gasp, not expecting a hand to jump out and grab him, and let himself be pulled into the obscure little hallway. He faced her, taking in her lovely face marred by hate and bitterness. Her olive eyes looked him up and down intently and he almost squirmed, trying to take his mind off the fact that her hand was still latched on to his wrist and that they were so close their noses almost touched.

She looked determined, scared, and terrifying all at the same time. Merlin knew she had been corrupted by her hatred for Uther, her magic, and her sister, but he still hadn't worked out his feelings for the king's intoxicating ward. She was looking more beautiful than ever, her silky black curls falling down her back and cascading across her shoulders like an ebony waterfall. Her skin was pale and her lips red. She wore a white dress that spilled across the floor, a silver necklace decorating her neck and chest. She stared at him for several long moments before casting a wary glance at the main corridor.

Merlin felt his stomach tense as he realized he had no idea what she was doing – she could be trying to kill him for all he knew! "Morgana... what?"

She let out a small, terrified shriek and Merlin tensed – what was she up to? He wanted no part in it and he turned to leave. She stopped him. With her lips.

She pressed her body against his, wrapped an arm around his waist, and kissed him deeply. Her lips were soft and strong, her sweet breath intoxicating as she drew him in. Merlin stood rigid for a moment, shocked. He distantly heard voices, footsteps approaching at Morgana's noise but his mind was buzzing because of her closeness, her lips pressed against his. He didn't mean to kiss her back. He meant to break away, to run away, distance himself from this seductress. But his mind was clouded with thoughts of  _her_.

She kissed him deeper and he returned it with a passion. He tried to clear his mind, to break away from the spell she had cast on him – but  _had_  she cast a spell? His mind whirred. Someone yelled and suddenly a hand grabbed his hair, yanking him away from her and two slender hands were beating at his chest, telling him to leave her alone. The person who had his hair yanked him back further and Merlin let out a strangled cry of pain as his senses returned to him.

Two sets of hands wrestled his arms behind his back before clasping his wrists in heavy manacles. Merlin let them. His eyes were on Morgana, whose chest was heaving, eyes wide with fright and he knew. She had set him up.

The kiss had been a trick.

Head flopped onto his chest, Merlin allowed the men holding him to take him away. He cast one final look at Morgana, expecting to see a sinister smirk gracing those soft, luscious lips… but instead a small frown creased her forehead. Her eyes watched him go and she almost looked sad.

Merlin was dragged around the corner and out of her sight.


	2. Chapter 2

The plan was supposed to have been a simple one.

Merlin was a problem; he had been ever since he had escaped the chains Morgause had bound him after he found out the truth of Morgana's defection and came back to Camelot. Morgana had been worried about what his knowledge of her part in the failed attempt to take Camelot might cause. What if he went to Arthur? If Arthur believed him (or even if he didn't, really, because either way the seed of doubt would have been planted) and they obtained proof, all could be lost.

Morgana had gone to Morgause, pleaded with her sister to give her some advice on how to keep Merlin quiet, or better yet, how to keep him out of the picture all together.

"Perhaps I could go to Uther," the king's ward had suggested, smirking. "I could tell him that Merlin tried to poison me."

"No," Morgause had almost immediately shot down the idea. "As much as I would relish seeing Merlin executed for what he did to you, sister, we cannot take that risk. If anyone finds out the reason that he did what he did and somehow believed him, all would be lost."

Morgana had frowned. "But what can we do? We cannot allow him to parade around the halls of Camelot with this kind of leverage."

Morgause had given her sister a mysterious smile and announced, "Then you must get him arrested for something else… something that  _he_ cannot even talk his way out of."

And so their plan had been born. The plan that, coincidentally, turned out to be a bit more complicated than Morgana had foreseen. The actual execution of the plan, however, hadn't been the problem. Morgana had waited in the small, obscure alcove of a hallway, knowing that Merlin would have to pass by there at some point during the morning while doing his chores. When he did walk by, she grabbed him, pulled him into the corridor. She cried for help, knowing the guards would come running. And then she had kissed Merlin. The way it looked to the guards, however, was like  _he_  was kissing _her_  – and that was  _not_  allowed. Uther would be furious. Possibly furious enough to execute the meddling servant. And  _that_  was exactly what she wanted.

Wasn't it?

She sucked in a breath as she remembered that kiss. Before she had pressed her lips to his, her eyes had briefly searched his face. He was the same Merlin he had always been –pale, dark hair, blue eyes – but somehow he seemed… different. His lean face was more serious, his dark hair a bit disheveled, and those eyes… those eyes were so…  _blue_.

She had thought that she would have to  _force_  herself to kiss him. He was, after all, a traitor. He had tried to kill her. She knew  _why_  he had, of course – to save Camelot, to save his friends – but that didn't matter to her. She had trusted him, and he had nearly killed her. Poisoned her. If it hadn't been for Morgause…

Because of this, she had been expecting utter revulsion to plague her at the touch of his lips against hers. Disgust, fear, hatred, anger... She hadn't foreseen the almost mind-numbing contentedness that had washed over her, the way that the two of them together, lips locked and bodies close, had felt so… right.

She also hadn't expected for him to kiss her back. But he had – oh, he had. She could still taste vague traces of his lips still lingering on her own. Or perhaps it was just her imagination, wishful thinking. She hadn't been able to explain the euphoria, the beauty, of that one kiss. She hadn't wanted to let him go when the guards yanked him away from her. She beat at him, telling him to leave her alone just like she had planned, but her heart was screaming otherwise.

Something had happened when she and Merlin had kissed. Something wonderful, terrible, exhilarating, beautiful, right, wrong…

She remembered how his head had fallen onto his chest, sad and defeated after her betrayal had been made known. What staggered her the most, however, was the aching sadness in those crystal blue eyes… not anger at what she had done, but depression at the hollow purpose of her kiss.

But now, even as she sat on her bed, waiting for news of what was going to happen to the man that had "assaulted" her, she wondered. Her purpose may have been hollow but their kiss certainly had not been. Suddenly the thought of Merlin dying for something that incredible, passionate made her feel ill. She also pondered whether or not he had felt the connection, too.

Deciding she wasn't just going to sit here and worry over it, the king's ward stood and stalked out of her chambers, heading in the direction of the dungeons. She could try to puzzle this all out herself, but the fact remained that only Merlin knew what Merlin felt and was thinking – and that was what she yearned to know more than anything.


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, Arthur beat Morgana to the dungeons.

"How could you be so  _stupid_?" He was angry as he glared at his servant who was chained to the back wall of a dungeon cell, head hung low and posture defeated. Arthur simply couldn't figure out what had been going through that moron's mind.

He had been walking down the corridor on his way to meet with his father when he had spotted something that he knew would be ingrained in his memory for a long time. Three guards were bodily dragging Merlin through the hallways toward the dungeon. One of them had his hand meshed in Merlin's hair and the other two kept strong grips on Merlin's arms, which were shackled by his wrists behind his back. The first thought that had run through his mind had been, _Great, what has the bloody idiot gotten into_ this _time?_

He had hastily approached the guards and Merlin's head had snapped up – or maybe the guard had pulled his head up by his hair? Arthur wasn't sure – as Arthur demanded, " _What_  is going on here?" He had moved around the guards and their prisoner so he was facing them and locked eyes with Merlin whose eyes were a mixture of anger and humiliation. Arthur hadn't been able to even begin to fathom what he had done. "Look," he said in a placating tone, "whatever he broke, I'll pay for it." He had felt the corner of his mouth lift at Merlin's slight smirk.

"I'm sorry, sire, but we've no choice. We have to take the servant to the dungeons; the king has already been informed of his treachery and will be along shortly."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Treachery? Merlin's too much of an idiot to even begin plotting some form or  _treachery_. Surely there's some mistake. What was his crime?"

The guards had looked away, and while their posture and expressions could only be described as awkward but Merlin didn't break the gaze. Finally, Merlin answered in an uncharacteristically cold voice –although Arthur was certain that the ice in his tone was not directed at him, "They seem to be under the impression that I…" he hesitated, "… _forced_  myself upon the Lady Morgana."

A stunned silence had followed. Arthur had burst into laughter. "Merlin? Forcing himself on someone? That's just ridiculous, let him go." There was no doubt in Arthur's mind that these guards were mistaken.

They had simply shrugged and pushed Merlin ahead. "Sorry, sire, but we have to do our duty. You can come down after the king has spoken to him and question him yourself, if you want."

Arthur had crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the four retreating forms. "I most certainly will."

Now Arthur stood inside of Merlin's cell while his servant stood against the wall in the shadows, bearing the brunt of his rage. Merlin snorted. "So you honestly believe that I would do something like that? Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I don't know what to believe anymore! I tried to speak to Morgana but was informed by Guinevere that she's too upset to see anyone at the moment although she won't tell anyone why. And then those guards claimed they saw you kissing her and had to literally  _drag_  you off of her, and when they did, she was crying and terrified because of what you had done to her…" He trailed off, sounding furious. He wondered distantly if Merlin was able to tell that he was more angry at the guards than Merlin.

Merlin's voice was more of a squeak than anything as he protested. "What I  _did_  to her? I didn't do  _anything_ , she kissed  _me_!"

Arthur felt his heart sink. So there  _had_ been a kiss – this was going to make it much harder for Arthur to get Merlin pardoned. He fumed and his next words flew from his mouth unbidden. "Really,  _Mer_ lin, who'd want to kiss  _you_?" Merlin was still shrouded by the shadows of the big walls but Arthur could  _feel_  his servant's burning glare even if he couldn't see it clearly. He sighed. "Perhaps that was a bit uncalled for."

Merlin snorted.

Arthur changed the subject. "The guards said something about my father came down and questioned you." His gut clenched uncertainly as he noticed the way Merlin's form tensed at the mention of Uther. He bit his lip, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer to his question. "What happened?"

Merlin let out a short, desperate laugh and there was the clinking of chains as the servant moved forward out of the shadows and as far as the chains surrounding his raw wrists would allow. Arthur's breath caught in his throat as his eyes roved over his friend's face. The right side looked as if something very large had struck it full force, bruised a deep purple. The eye was swollen almost shut and the corner of his mouth was trickling blood. A red hand-shaped print provided a contrasting color on the man's face.

Arthur stepped forward hesitantly as Merlin turned the left side of his face toward Arthur, trying to hide the damage done to him. His voice wasn't shaky or scared, but resigned to his fate. "Your father was angry," Merlin stated simply.

"He  _hit_  you," Arthur seethed.

Merlin grimaced. "Apparently."

Arthur couldn't tear his eyes off the battered right side of Merlin's face. This was so  _wrong!_  "Did he say anything?" They both knew that the unspoken question behind the words was  _How is he going to kill you?_

Merlin smiled wanly, eyes reflecting fear. "Remember last year, when you thought I was in love with Morgana, what you said?"

His own words came streaming back into his mind and he cringed.  _The king would_ have your head  _if he knew…_

"No," Arthur snapped. "I won't let that happen."

"Arthur—"

"Shut up, Merlin. I don't know what went on back there but I  _know_  there is no way you could have done that to anyone, least of all Morgana. There's been some sort of misunderstanding." His eyes lit up. "I'll speak to Morgana."

"Arthur,  _no!_ "

The prince completely ignored him. "She'll be able to tell Father what really happened."

Merlin shook his head slowly. "No, Arthur, I don't think she will." He paused, uncertain of how to continue. "What if… what if  _this_  was what she wanted?"

Arthur took a step back, shocked. "What are you suggesting, Merlin? That Morgana is intentionally trying to get you killed?" He chuckled. "I know you two have been at odds lately—"

"You've noticed?" Merlin asked, eyes wide.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of  _course_  I have,  _Mer_ lin. It's not hard to spot, after all, with all those glares she throws at you."

Merlin felt somehow triumphant.  _So I'm not the only one who's noticed her smirks…_

"I've almost asked one of you about it but figured it was none of my business."

"Since when does that stop you?" Merlin couldn't help but jibe.

Arthur huffed. "The point is, Merlin, that even though the two of you have had some sort of falling out ever since we rescued her, Morgana is  _not_  the type of person to try and kill someone she's angry at." Seeing the doubtful look on his servant's face, Arthur couldn't help but wonder if there was something to Merlin's suggestion but he shrugged it off. That was ridiculous… wasn't it?"

"I'll talk to my father, then," the prince announced. "I'll try to make him see reason. You may be a terrible servant, Merlin, but I'm not going to let you  _die_  for some sort of misunderstanding."

Merlin smiled wanly. "Thank you, Arthur – but I don't think it'll do any good. But I'm grateful that you tried."

Arthur nodded stiffly. "You're going to be fine, Merlin. I promise." He abruptly turned, left the cell, and didn't turn back as the guards locked it again.

Merlin watched sadly as Arthur left. After he had disappeared out of sight he heard the prince's voice speaking softly to someone – presumably someone who had come to see him, like Gaius. Not wanting his mentor to see what Uther's fist and rage had done to his face, Merlin quickly slunk back into the shadows, chains clinking and manacles chafing his wrists as he did so.

Arthur finished talking and Merlin heard two sets of footsteps – one retreating, the other approaching. He already had his "Don't worry, Gaius, I'm  _fine_ " speech on the tip of his tongue when his visitor slipped into view, low cut white dress hugging her body and lips just as finely formed as they had been when she had kissed him. He glared stonily at the witch as she drew closer to his cell, her expression a fusion of triumph and uncertainty.

"Merlin?"

His voice was cold and angry as he returned her greeting, still embraced by the dark shadows and dim lighting of the cell.

"Morgana."


	4. Chapter 4

She stood outside of the cell, bathed in the dim light that filtered through the barred windows. She was beautiful, hauntingly so, with her long black hair falling down her back and over her shoulders in silky ropes. Her eyes glimmered in the pale lighting, confliction raging within them. Her soft white complexion seemed to glow in the darkness of the dungeons.

When she entered the room, the guards at the cell stood to attention, heads bowed. "My lady."

Merlin continued to glare at the seductress from his shadowed corner as Morgana stood, head held high and chin raised and said, "I would like to speak with the prisoner – alone." Merlin felt his good eye narrow as he heard her request, not trusting the witch or her purposes in the slightest.

The two guards glanced at each other. "Do you think it wise, my lady?" the first asked, head still inclined submissively. "After what he has done to you…" Merlin gritted his teeth at the reminder of the accusation and Morgana's betrayal.

Morgana gave a falsely brave smile and responded in a thin but determined voice, "I do not wish to enter the cell with him. I would just like you to leave until I have spoken with him. I believe I deserve to speak my mind to him after what he put me through." Merlin seethed and the guards still seemed a bit dubious. Morgana cast a swift glance in the prisoner's direction. "He is behind bars and chained to the wall. Do you honestly think he can do me any harm?" She fixed the men with a pleading stare and Merlin couldn't help but wonder darkly what she was planning that she was so determined to be alone with him. He didn't like any of the possibilities that crept into his whirling mind.

"Please," Morgana continued. "I have a right to look him in the eye and demand to know  _why_." She glared at them even as Merlin glowered at her from his dark recess of the cell.

Finally the guards nodded. "Yell if you need us, my lady," the second one requested. "We do not wish any more harm to come to you."

Morgana nodded, her raven hair bobbing around her delicate face as she did so. "Of course. Thank you."

They strode out of the room and down the hall a bit so as to give Morgana her privacy but to also be within range to help if something went wrong. Honestly, though, what did they expect Merlin to do? Morgana had been right, he was in a cell and shackled to a wall – he wasn't going anywhere. Of course, there was always his magic but no one knew about that yet. There was still a chance that he could get out of this without magic – albeit a very small one – but he did not want to reveal his secret just yet. He hoped that Gaius would come see him soon, as much as he loathed his guardian to see him like this, because he desperately needed some advice on how to deal with this situation. This was one plot that in all of his wildest imaginings he had never seen coming.

But before he could speak to Gaius he had to get through this confrontation with the woman who had set it into motion. The woman that he had never been as angry with as he was now. He glared darkly at the beautiful specter that lurked in his line of sight, his nightmares, his dreams. She regarded him coolly for a few moments before stepping forward and addressing him once more. "Hello, Merlin."

When he spoke, his voice was as icy as her heart. "What do you want, Morgana?"

She smirked. "Not enjoying your new accommodations, Merlin? Pity. And I pulled so many strings to get you here."

Merlin snorted derisively. "I'm sure." He scowled although he knew she wouldn't be able to see it because of the shadows in the cell. "Have you just come to gloat,  _my lady_ , or is there another reason for you subjecting me to your presence?"

To his surprise, Morgana did not come back with a sarcastic retort. Instead she took a step closer to the bars, eyes uncertain as she eyed what she could see of him. "I-I had a question, actually."

"About how I'd like to be executed?" Merlin snapped. "Sorry, but the king has already made up his mind so I don't suppose you'll get a say in it." He knew he was risking getting into even more trouble by making her angry but at this point he did not care. The only "strings" she had "pulled" had been his heartstrings, the twine that held his emotions in check. She had used him – or rather _mis_ used him – humiliated him, and ultimately sentenced him to death. What made him even angrier was the reminder of who she once was… and the comparison to what she was now. It made him sick.

Morgana's expression was unreadable but she took a step closer to the cell, wrapped her pale hands around the bars as her fierce gaze attempted to pierce into the shadows. She didn't speak so Merlin filled the silence, the hurt of her betrayal cutting him deeper than he would have expected. "You know what makes this so bad, Morgana? Not that you went through all of this to see me die, not because you hate me this much – but because of what you have become." He felt a burning pressure behind his eyes and his throat began to ache from the strain of keeping the tears of grief at the loss of the woman who was once his friend out of his eyes and voice. "You – you used to be the most caring and selfless person I knew, Morgana. I  _admired_  you for that. And then… you haven't just betrayed me, Morgana. You've turned your back on everyone who loves you, who cares for you, who has risked everything for you. You've become a monster. And that hurts worse than anything…" He trailed off, straightened his back with a clatter of chains, and added, "And after this final betrayal… I fear you will  _never_  be able to redeem yourself." His voice was as hard and cold as his words.

Morgana's eyes flashed gold and Merlin barely held back a yelp as his head was suddenly flung against the back of the cell wall. He had to literally force himself not to retaliate with magic of his own. He couldn't afford for anyone to find out about his powers and certainly not Morgana. He knew that she hadn't meant to lash out with her magic as she had little or no control over it. She was inexperienced and weak, something that he feared would be remedied with time. Right now her magic was linked closely to her emotions and what Merlin had said had apparently hit close to home. He wondered if she was struggling with her new allegiance as much as he was… but that was impossible. She had shown her true colors, her real intent.

She  _was_  evil.

The idea still made his head spin as the dark goddess glared at him through the bars, almost _daring_  him to retaliate, to protest, to cry, to try and rush forward to hurt her back. But he did none of that. Instead he remained perfectly still, his voice calm and steady, the complete opposite of everything she was right now. He managed to keep most of the dark amusement out of his tone as he leaned against the wall she had just knocked his head into. "Ah. Magic."

Morgana became still, her eyes feral and lips twisted into a grimace of some emotion Merlin couldn't quite identify – rage? fear? sadness? He didn't know.

"Who was it," he continued conversationally, "that was the first to find out about your magic, the first to try and give you advice to go to the druids – despite his better judgment – and the first to promise never to tell another living soul about your dark secret?" He paused. "Even after you made it clear that you had turned your back on him and everyone else, he still didn't speak. Maybe he should have."

"Uther would have never believed you over me," she spat.

Merlin hummed. "Perhaps not. But that hasn't changed the fact that I have told no one of your treachery."

Morgana was livid as she declared in a harsh whisper to keep the guards from hearing, "Possessing magic is  _not_  a crime!"

"Of course not – it can be used for good." Eying her steadily although she still didn't have a clear view of him, he added in a low voice, "But using it the way  _you_  have _is_  a crime, Morgana. You haven't used magic for good, you've used it to your own purposes, you've let it do the very thing you used to be adamant to show Uther it did not – corrupt." His voice dropped even more and icy venom laced with his anger and hurt at her betrayal coated his words. "Or is it that magic didn't corrupt  _you_ , but  _you_  corrupted your magic?"

Morgana opened her mouth to answer but instead pressed herself against the bars, eyes peering into the cell. Quite suddenly and unexpectedly, especially after Merlin's last comment (a comment that he had fully expected to get him slammed into the wall again), she demanded, "Did you feel something when I kissed you?"

Merlin was taken aback at her query and wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't know what she meant exactly and was not sure if this was supposed to be some sort of trick question to make him further implicate himself or if there was some other unknown motivation behind her words. He took a few steps further, out into the light, and regarded her almost curiously. "What the  _hell_ are you talking about, Morgana?"

* * *

Morgana's eyes were locked onto his face, eyes wide and maybe a bit guilty as she looked at the blackening bruise and fading handprint, the trickle of blood running from the corner of those lips that hers had tasted just hours before. The sudden urge to reach through the bars, drag him to her, and kiss him again, this time with no other reason than because she wanted to swept over her suddenly and she shook the foreign thought off, disgusted with herself, with her weakness.

Yes, she had felt something when she had kissed Merlin, but surely it wasn't  _love_  or even  _like._ Perhaps the tangy juice of forbidden, dark romance twisted to her own agenda. But it hadn't been that – it had been purer, stronger…

Merlin was speaking now. "Admiring Uther's handiwork? Just an added bonus for you, I'm sure."

She found herself asking a very stupid and very un-foe-like question. "Does it… hurt?"

Merlin stared at her as if she had lost her mind before shooting back, "And why do you care?"

"I don't." The response was automatic and she wondered at the way her stomach seemed to clench like it always used to when she wasn't telling the truth – in the days before lying became the center point of her existence. She changed the subject. "I want to know what you felt when… when I kissed you."

Merlin blinked with the eye that wasn't swollen shut and answered incredulously, "The guard's hand in my hair, for one." The chains clinked as he shifted position. "And…" he paused, eyes dimming a bit, "…you."

"What about me?" Morgana asked. Her heart rate was climbing steadily of its own accord as her eyes ran over his face – one side bruised and broken, the other pale and handsome.

When Merlin spoke again, his voice was soft and sad. "The 'you' I used to know. The one I foolishly believed you had become… The 'you' that I miss… more than anything. I felt… you, Morgana." He sighed. "But not you. Not you at all." His voice sounded as broken as his heart must be now. "Get out, Morgana," he ordered harshly.

Morgana took a step back but continued staring at him. Her voice trembling slightly, she whispered, "You cannot tell me what to do! Uther would have your head for speaking to me in such a tone."

"I thought you hated him."

"I do – but that doesn't mean that he will not jump to my defense in a heartbeat."

Merlin's gaze nearly penetrated her soul as he stared her down and responded resignedly, "Well, go ahead, tell him how I tried to order around someone of your caliber. He's going to have my head tomorrow, anyway, Morgana, so we may as well give him some extra incentive."

For some reason, hearing what was to happen to Merlin straight from the source brought a whole new wave of reality crashing crazily upon Morgana, and the intense emotions that rode on the tip of that wave were scary. New.

She took another step back, eyes wide and the corners prickling with tears.  _This was really happening. She had seduced Merlin. She had gotten him down here. She had gotten him sentenced to death, just like she'd planned._

She should be joyous.

But in fact, she couldn't find the joy in the midst of all the other roiling, wild, unpredictable feelings that were plunging through her being with every breath, knowing that with each breath she took, she was one breath closer to Merlin's last. Because she'd sentenced him.

Trembling with confusion and the onslaught of overwhelming emotions that threatened to bring her to her knees, Morgana turned on her heel, picked up her skirts, and ran. She could vaguely hear the sound of the guards calling to her, asking if she was alright, but she ignored them. She couldn't be down there any longer. Not with her fears, her doubts, her heart, her hatred, her love, her conflictions…

She had to get away. But no matter how far she ran, Merlin's bruised face and shattered expression, and cold, angry eyes were never far behind.


	5. Chapter 5

She was so confused. The only time she had ever felt this much confliction was when she had discovered that Uther wasn't just her guardian, but her father. Now that detail was lingering in the back of her mind as she tried to come to terms with just what it was she was feeling. Her mind spun dangerously and at the center of the whirlwind was none other than the man she'd just condemned to death.

The man who had spoken so coldly and yet had somehow penetrated into the icy depths of her hardened soul. She couldn't help but wonder at what he had said, what his words implied. That she was a monster? Evil? Wrong? But she wasn't. She was justified.  _He_  was the one in the wrong, the one who was on the wrong side. Everything she did, she did for the sake of those like her. Those with magic, the people that had been oppressed by Uther, gathered together, slaughtered.

And yet the disappointment in his eyes when he regarded her, accused her of turning her back on everything that used to make her Morgana, lingered in her soul. She didn't know why she'd lashed out so angrily at his words – they were just words. She didn't belive them. She didn't care what he thought.

_Then why did hearing them, especially coming from the mouth that they did, hurt her so much?_

She hadn't realized where she had gone until she was looking over the beautiful kingdom she'd grown to hate under its king's tyranny. This spot on the battlements had used to be her favorite spot in all of Camelot. She could look over the courtyard, see the bustle of the city, the life and vibrancy of her home. She could see the land that extended beyond the citadel but was still a part of Camelot – the rolling hills, mystical forests, high-reaching peaks, and low dipping valleys. She was on the very top of the world here. She was a goddess, overseeing her dominion. This world was hers. She had complete control over everything in her life. Or so she had thought.

Back in the days that Merlin described, the time she was ludicrously naïve, enjoying the luxury of being the king's beloved ward, lavished in gifts and expensive dresses and perfumes… the days when she foolishly believed Uther cared about her. Those days, when he claimed she cared about people. She still did. Just a different group of people. She would be the savior of those with magic. She would lead them out of their oppression.

She forced herself to think of other things. Not of the words that had been spoken, but the man who had spoken them. That was what he was, you know. A man.

When she had first met him, he hadn't been. He had not even been close. He was a boy, someone who didn't understand the complicated and high-up life of the royals, even more naïve than she had been. A boy that couldn't possibly understand the dangerous, dog-eat-dog world that he was living in.

That had all changed when he had tried to kill her. She knew that the day he had poisoned her was the day he had grown up. But even before then she had noticed signs that he wasn't all that she had thought. From the moment he learned about her magic, had come to check on her, supposedly help her, something in her had been almost magnetically drawn to him. She couldn't understand it or explain it. She wasn't sure she wanted to.

She had been sure that when she saw him again, the feeling would be gone. That when they kissed no sparks would fly. That she wouldn't find herself regretting what she had done.

She had never been more wrong in her life.

Now she was torn – torn between the man that had been determined to see the good in her, to help her, to be her friend… and the duty she had to her sister, those with magic. She set her jaw and although tears formed in her eyes, she resolutely spun on her heel and stalked toward her chambers. She would avoid the dungeon at all cost. She would stay away from Merlin, from his lies and mind tricks and bitter, desperate insults and pleas...

She would do  _nothing._

* * *

Arthur entered the throne room with a neutral expression, determined not to give his father any further reason to be angry. He certainly didn't want any of that anger to be taken out on the servant in the dungeons. Merlin was in enough trouble as it was. He only hoped that he'd be able to get him out of it. There was no way he was going to stand aside and watch Merlin die for something there was no way he could have done.

"Father."

Uther didn't look surprised by his appearance. In fact, he looked almost bored as he rifled through some papers. "No, Arthur."

Arthur was shocked. "You don't even know what I was going to say yet!" he protested as calmly as he could muster. He wasn't going to allow his father to get under his skin.

"Yes, I do," the kind droned. Locking eyes with his son, Uther continued, "This happens  _every_ time that boy gets accused of something. He gets arrested and you arrive with an armload of excuses about  _why_  he didn't do whatever it was he was supposed to have done. You challenge my judgment, tell me I'm wrong about him. But this time – those guards saw it happen! Arthur, how can you possibly try to justify what that monster did to Morgana?"

Arthur's words had flown from his mouth before he could stop them. "Merlin is  _not_  a monster! He is the gentlest man I know – he would never hurt a fly, never push himself on anyone!"

Uther's eyes were cold and calculating as he stared at his son. "The quiet ones are always the first to snap."

Arthur let out a deep puff of air. "Father, please – I'm begging you. At least  _delay_  the execution until I can get prove that Merlin didn't do what they thought he did. I'll talk to the guards, to Merlin, to Morgana…"

"Don't bother. The guards know what they saw, the boy will lie to get himself away from the chopping block, and Morgana's too upset to even talk about what happened."

Arthur's mouth fell open as he realized what his father was saying. Morgana hadn't even told her side of the story yet? And yet Uther had already made up his mind as was going to kill Merlin because of what some guards  _thought_  they saw? This was madness. He told his father as much. "Father, surely you should ask Morgana what happened first? If you haven't even gotten her account, how can you know that Merlin really did what the guards think?"

Uther stood up, his eyes flashing. "She has been locked away in her room in hysterical tears all evening. She won't come out. She's terrified. What else could it be?"

Arthur frowned. He knew for a fact that Morgana hadn't been in her room crying all day because he had seen her, nodded at her, murmured that he wanted to talk to her later, as she entered the dungeons. He hadn't even questioned why she was there. But why  _was_ she there? A little seed of doubt began to play in his mind. Everyone thought she had been devastated but she hadn't looked traumatized in the slightest. In fact, now that he looked back on it, he recalled that she had looked almost… giddy.

But that didn't make sense. Merlin's words echoed in his mind.  _"What if this was what she wanted?"_ Could it be true? Surely not. Still, he had to get some answers. He had to convince Morgana to tell Uther the truth, that Merlin had done nothing. It seemed that the only one who could save Merlin now was Morgana. She held his life in her hands.

For some reason, the thought didn't comfort him in the slightest.

He turned and strode out of the throne room toward Morgana's chambers. He had some questions and she  _had_  to have some answers. If she didn't, Merlin was doomed.

And Arthur just wasn't going to accept that.


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin sighed heavily and leaned his head back against the grimy wall of the dungeon. The shackles around his bloody wrists weighed heavily on his arms and heart, his eyes flickering about in the pressing darkness but seeing nothing but the dim light of the torches outside of his cell. He was exhausted – physically  _and_  emotionally. He wished more than anything that he had just pushed away from Morgana, left her after she began to kiss him… and yet at the same time, he couldn't find it in him to completely wish away that kiss…

Merlin didn't know what it was about Morgana, but he had always felt a sort of connection to her, even before he knew she had magic. The first day he had laid eyes on her when she thought he was Gwen, her long black hair flowing as she stepped behind the screen and her melodic voice as she changed behind it as she chattered about the banquet to "Gwen," something had been there. He felt like he was drawn to her and not just because of her beauty. He had sensed that she was something special.

And she was. She had magic, the Gift of the Seer, and, when she first found out about her powers, a genuine desire to do good with it. What had happened? Merlin found himself musing over what he could have done differently to prevent her from taking this path in life – told her about her magic from the start, revealed his magic, tried to help her and be there for her more, found a way around poisoning her when the Knights of Medhir were attacking Camelot…

His stomach clenched painfully as he recalled the look of stark terror in Morgana's eyes when she realized that this man she had trusted had poisoned her. He hadn't wanted to… it had literally torn him to pieces, broken him, made him realize what a terrifyingly cruel place the world really was. The moment that his hand touched the hemlock on Gaius's shelf was the moment that he began to wonder if life was not just some cruel joke. What was the point, he had asked himself as he held a choking Morgana his arms, in making friends, having family, loving and living, if you are forced to take action against those you care the most about? Could it be that the only purpose of life is to see how far a man can fall before he completely loses hope?

A single tear slid down his cheek and he did nothing to stop it. He wasn't upset about his execution – he certainly wasn't planning on sticking around for it; Morgana wasn't going to destroy his destiny with her little trick although being forced to flee from Camelot would make it much more difficult – but about what had brought it about. What Morgana's betrayal represented. Her heart, once open and loving and caring now turned to ice and stone. Her eyes, once warm and friendly, dark and guarded. The smile, no longer a genuine, happy expression but a sinister smirk. And this final betrayal, the twist on his emotions, the connection he felt with her, his desperation to find something good in her, all but sealed the deal – if she had closed her heart this much, the old Morgana must be dead.

And so he slowly slid down the cell wall until he was resting on his haunches, chains clinking as he moved. Arthur had assured him that he wouldn't let Merlin die for this but Merlin knew that when it came to his "loving" ward, he was blinded unconditionally. Uther would not even think about sparing him unless Morgana somehow convinced him that he had not forced himself upon her, and that wasn't going to happen. Besides, even if for some reason she did, Uther would more than likely kill him anyway. It was just the kind of man the king was. Merlin didn't hate him for it, but he certainly didn't like him for it either. When it came to Uther, he was indifferent – he protected the king for Arthur's sake, not Uther's.

All this to decide that Arthur was more than likely going to be able to do nothing to free him, Merlin began to plan his escape. He didn't want it to be conspicuous as he didn't want his magic to be discovered if he had a say in it. While he was already sentenced for death because of Morgana's trickery, he was afraid that if Arthur found out that he had magic now, before he was ready, he would never trust Merlin again when he could return to Camelot.

Yes, his execution was to be tomorrow at midday. If Arthur hadn't miraculously convinced his father otherwise, then he would slip away from Camelot by midmorning. He hated running away, leaving Arthur and Camelot and his friends and yes, even his destiny, but if he died tomorrow, he'd still leave them – the only difference would be that this leaving would be permanent and he would never be able to return to them once Arthur became king. He was going to do this, to escape, not for himself – although staying alive  _was_  a definite perk – but for his friends, his prince, and his destiny.

Morgana had made her choice and now he was making his. She had chosen darkness, isolation, hatred. He, however, wanted just the opposite – light, friendship, and love. The dragon's words after he had saved Merlin from the Serket's poison suddenly came to life in his head and yet another tear rolled silently down his cheek.

_She is the darkness to your light, the hatred to your love…_

He had tried to believe in her, tried so hard to turn her darkness into light, her hatred into love, but she was blinded. He doubted seriously that even a miracle could save her now, could save her from herself. It was a very grim thought indeed, he mused, as a pang of sadness at the loss of the old Morgana hit him heavily.

 _I'm sorry, Morgana. I wished I could have helped you more. You hate me because I poisoned you and I'll take the blame for that. I'm sorry – I didn't want to, never did. If I could have, I would have drunk the poison in your place in a heartbeat. I would have_ died _for you. But not anymore. I'm not going to die for you now, not when you have so selfishly put your own malice and thirst for revenge in front of the feelings I once shared for you, the connection I know you feel too. I'm not going to the chopping block for your own petty retribution._

He shifted slightly and added silently,  _And mark my words, Morgana – even when I'm away from Camelot, I'll find a way to protect Arthur regardless. You will_ not _get to him while I'm alive. That's another reason I'm escaping tomorrow – because as long as there is breath in my body I'll find a way to aid Arthur, to keep him safe. It's a pity you don't understand this, Morgana. Friendship. Loyalty. What it means to_ care _about someone. I will_ never _turn my back on Arthur, or Gaius, or Gwen, or any of my friends, not like you did, anyway. Because despite what you may think, I wasn't the only one who betrayed you during Morgause's assault on Camelot. You betrayed yourself._

With a long-suffering sigh the chained warlock closed his eyes and tried to block further disturbing thoughts from his mind. He wished he could tell Morgana just what he had been thinking but he doubted even emotions and thoughts so raw and real would be able to sway her now. After all, his previous attempts at making her see how far she had fallen had not been well-received. The welt on the back of his head from where she had thrown him against the wall was proof of that.

Forcing his grim thoughts away once more, Merlin settled back for a long, damp, dreary night – possibly lonely, although he had a pretty good feeling that Gaius would be down to visit him, not to mention lecture him, as soon as he had the chance. Smiling glumly, Merlin realized that Gaius, too, would be frantically appealing to the king to let Merlin go. Even in the depressing dungeon, Merlin felt a wave of gratitude as he thought of all the loyal friends he had here in Camelot.

Finally, after rolling a few more dismal thoughts around in his mind, Merlin dropped off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Morgana's eyes narrowed at the sound of someone knocking on her door. She had been sitting in her room, going through more mood swings than she had ever experienced in such a short time span in her life. One moment she was furiously angry at Merlin, wanting nothing more than to stride down to the dungeon and kill him herself. The next minute she was immersed in memories of all that she had once admired about him – his naivety, the sparkle in his eyes whenever he glanced her way, the way his curled at the nape of his neck and around his ears when it got too long, the innocent goofy grin, his compassion, ridiculous excuses, loyalty to Arthur, determination, courage… The next she would find herself terrified about what she had done and then she would be angry once again, this time at herself, for thinking this way, for thinking about _him_  in such a way. She  _hated_  him. She shouldn't be reminiscing about how things used to be. So much had changed. Or had it really? When she saw him around the castle, he seemed much like the same Merlin as always. Goofy. Clumsy. Loyal to Arthur. Funny. Sweet. Energetic. And always willing to give her a second chance.

She was actually almost relieved at the knock on the door as it distracted her from her troubled musings but she still found herself annoyed at the intrusion – she had made it perfectly clear that she was fragile and in emotional turmoil right now, so disturbed by what had happened that she couldn't see anybody. So what idiot was intruding on her privacy now?

"Who is it?" she asked a bit coldly before realizing that maybe she should have sounded a bit more weepy and not so irritable.

There was a short silence as the person on the other side of the door probably took her tone of voice in, and then she heard a resolved reply, "It's Arthur."

 _Oh,_  she thought dryly, everything coming into clear focus now.  _That idiot._

"Go away," she mumbled, now managing to sound fairly distressed.

Arthur ignored her, calling through the door, "Please, Morgana – I  _have_  to speak to you."

Morgana found her eyebrows raising in spite of herself. Arthur almost  _never_  said please. Curiosity getting the better of her, she folded her arms over her chest and stood up from her place at her vanity. "Fine. Come in."

Whatever she had been expecting to see when Arthur entered her room, it most certainly wasn't her oblivious half-brother with a fire in his eyes, glaring sternly at her. She bit her lip. Maybe letting Arthur talk to her wasn't such a good idea after all. This was the look she had seen several times before – a look that appeared when he had something on his mind and he was determined to get it. And she knew exactly what he was wanting this time although she was loathe to give it to him. She'd have to be strong, though, because Arthur looked  _really_  determined.

He wanted the truth and if the look on his face was anything to judge by, he wasn't going to leave until he got it. Her suspicions were confirmed as he closed the door behind him, sighed, and then asked, "What  _really_  happened between you and Merlin in the corridor?"


	7. Chapter 7

Morgana was shocked by Arthur's question. Of all the things he had wanted to ask… How could he not believe her story? It was so heartfelt, so tear-jerking, so emotional. And yes, it was a total lie, but Arthur wasn't supposed to suspect that. She wondered what Merlin had told him about their encounter. At the thought of the man in the dungeon, her pulse spiked again. She could see his face, defined by the shadows he was confined in, eyes sad and accusing as they gazed upon her.

"What?" she snapped, perhaps a little too harshly if Arthur's ascending eyebrows were any indication.

"I  _said_ , what really happened between you two in the corridor?"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "I  _heard_  what you said, Arthur."

Arthur smirked. "Then why ask?"

Morgana sighed. "You are utterly exasperating, Arthur Pendragon," she announced, trying to distract him – and, if she were quite honest, herself as well – from thoughts of Merlin. She had to be strong, had to go through with what she and her sister had planned. She couldn't let Merlin's supposedly heartfelt words of lament for who she used to be get into her mind. She couldn't allow his stormy blue eyes, twinkling in the candlelight from unshed tears, distract her from her goal. Merlin was a problem. He needed to be dealt with. Tomorrow he would be dead.

_Dead._

He would be out of their way. But at what cost?

"Morgana?" She jumped slightly as Arthur said her name, jerking her out of her reverie.

"I'm… sorry," she almost whispered, her heart aching as she thought about Merlin.  _Why_  was the image of his bruised face and split lip stuck in her head? And why didn't it make her feel pleased or at the very least a sense of justice? Merlin  _had_  tried to poison her, after all. "I was just thinking."

Arthur gave her a knowing look. "About what happened between you and Merlin?" Morgana half-glared at him and he raised his eyebrows. "I know Merlin, Morgana. And you do, too. We both know that he would never do what Father seems to think he's done." He paused. "Perhaps he was misinformed or confused by what you told him." Hesitating, he added, "I know that there has been tension between the two of you lately, Morgana."

Morgana's eyes snapped up to meet his, a tiny spike of terror in her heart. Was her hatred for the king that obvious? "Between your father and I?" she questioned, assuming that Arthur was speaking of the last person he had mentioned, which was Uther.

Arthur blinked. "No," he said slowly, giving her a strange look. "You and Merlin."

"Oh." She bit her lip and considered telling Arthur about how Merlin had poisoned her. That would change his tune. But she couldn't. She knew in her heart of hearts that Merlin had only been doing what he had to do to save Arthur and the rest of Camelot. Could she really condemn him for that?  _You already have,_  a nasty voice in a dark corner of her mind reminded her.  _He's going to die tomorrow and it's your hatred of him that caused it._  "I don't hate him." The realization hit her suddenly in sharp relief. She really  _didn't_  hate him, did she? Not entirely. Yes, she was angry with him – had been for quite some time now – but she couldn't get him out of her head. They had once been friends. There was  _something_  there.

She hadn't even realized that she had spoken the last words aloud until Arthur responded. "Of course you don't  _hate_  him, Morgana, but  _something's_  been going on." His voice became grave. "Merlin is going to  _die_  tomorrow, Morgana." Hearing Arthur say this brought a lump to her throat.  _Yes, he's going to die,_  she tried to tell herself firmly,  _and it's for the best. It's no more than he deserves, the traitor._

"No," she choked out, not sure if she was objecting to Merlin's impending death or to the idea that she was so shaken by it. She was his enemy; she shouldn't be concerned in the slightest by his demise. And yet she could barely breathe as she watched in her mind's eye the arc of the axe, the thud of the blade, the splatter of blood…

"Morgana,  _please_ ," Arthur all but begged. "You have to tell me the truth. You have to tell Father the truth – convince him that this is all a mistake. Because you  _know_  it is, Morgana. A mistake."

Morgana elegantly lifted a slender eyebrow. "And you say you don't care?"

Arthur flushed. "Morgana, now is not the time. Merlin can't die for something he didn't do!"

"Fine," Morgana snapped. "You want to know what happened, Arthur?" She took a deep breath, on the verge of telling him everything, before lying, "I've always found something appealing about him." Well, that part wasn't exactly a lie. But the rest definitely was. "We were talking and it just sort of… happened." This was it. She had to decide what was more important to her – her revenge or her heart.

While she didn't know exactly what to think of the agony and fear that plagued her when she thought about Merlin dying because of her, she did know that it would only be worse if she allowed Uther to go through with this. Perhaps there was another way… Making up her mind, she said in a wavering voice, "I kissed him first. When I realized what I was doing, I was startled. The guards found us and assumed that Merlin had assaulted me. I was… too scared to say anything, I didn't want to get in trouble for kissing a servant."

Arthur stared at her long and hard and for a moment, Morgana thought he was going to yell at her. But then he did the thing she least expected him to do – he pulled her into a tight embrace, grinning from ear to ear. "That's great, Morgana! You must speak to my father, convince him to see reason."

Morgana nodded curtly before striding out of the room, a stern look on her face. What on earth was she doing? Everything was going according to plan. She should walk away now, pretend the conversation with Arthur had never happened, not mention any of her lies to the King of Lies himself…

But then Merlin's battered face flashed in her mind's eye and her lips tingled slightly as she remembered the touch of his lips. She cursed quietly, hating Merlin for not allowing her to hate him like she should. Whatever it was that existed between them, he had better be happy about it, she thought bitterly as she and Arthur walked to the throne room, because whether she liked it or not, that "bond" was about to save his life.

She had never felt such a confusing bout of relief and fury at one time before. That meddling serving boy would be the death of her yet.

Even so, she decided, uncertainty still tearing at her dark heart, she wasn't quite ready to be the death of him… yet.


	8. Chapter 8

"You really expect me to believe that the boy  _wasn't_  taking advantage of you?" Uther's voice was condescending and patronizing and Morgana fought the urge to throw him across the room with magic. He always treated her like a child, someone who did not have the capacity to take care of themselves. That was just another reason why she hated him.

She managed to stay calm, lifting her chin up regally and standing her ground. Arthur stood slightly behind her, his eyes flitting between Morgana and Uther. It was painfully obvious to Morgana that Arthur was trying to convince them – and himself – that he wasn't worried about Merlin. He had shown too much emotion earlier and now he was putting up a guard of indifference. Or trying to, at least. It wasn't working.

Despite herself, Morgana found a small wave of affection wash over her for the man that she had grown up with. She ignored it – he, like Uther, like the man she was about to save, was merely an obstacle in her way to the throne. She had to remember that. She couldn't let moments like these – moments in which Arthur showed true signs of how much he had changed from the spoiled prince he'd once been – affect her goals, her dreams.

She  _shouldn't_  be letting  _Merlin_  affect her, either. For heaven's sake, she and Morgause had concocted this scheme to get him killed and now she was saving him! She bit her lip but pressed forward with what she had come here to do. She had already acknowledged the fact that she couldn't go through with this. There was no going back now.

"Yes," Morgana said firmly. "I told you, there was a misunderstanding." She tried not to let her disdain for her 'father' creep into her voice. " _I_  kissed  _him_  first. The guards got the wrong impression. The reason I didn't say anything before now was because… because I was afraid of what you would think about my kissing a mere servant."

Uther regarded Morgana and then Arthur before his eyes fell back onto the former. "If this is true," the king said with barely restrained impatience, "then why are you telling me now?"

"Because you are going to kill him," Morgana replied hotly. "When Arthur told me what his sentence was, I realized…" her voice grew softer as she reflected upon what she had truly learned, "…I realized that perhaps there are more important things than what I want. It wouldn't be right for Merlin to  _die_  for my mistake, not when he is innocent."

Uther frowned. "The guards – they said you were beating against his chest, terrified, telling him to let you go."

"They heard me wrong," Morgana stated calmly. She knew that she had to sound completely sure of herself or Uther would see through her lies. "I was telling  _them_  to let  _him_  go. I was trying to pull him back. They had him by the hair, they were  _hurting_  him."

Uther raised an eyebrow and stared at her as if trying to dissect any lies she might have told.

"Father, please," Arthur spoke up and Morgana barely refrained from rolling her eyes.  _She_  was handling this but Arthur  _always_  had to have a say in  _everything_ , didn't he? "Why would Morgana try to protect a man that tried to hurt her?"

Uther looked between them both one more time before sighing irritably. "Very well," he all but growled. He glared at Morgana and Arthur in turn before warning them seriously, "But if I  _ever_ find out that this wasn't the case or if that boy puts another  _toe_  out of line, he  _will_ suffer  _severe_ consequences." Both Morgana and Arthur nodded solemnly. Uther wasn't quite finished as he turned to Morgana once more. "I understand that a servant might be tempting, Morgana – although why  _that_  one was, I'll never understand – but you are a lady of the court. You are the ward of the king and deserve much better than a mere servant."

Morgana wanted to smack that patronizing glower off of her father's face but she resisted, simply smiling her agreement. "Of course, my lord."

"And if the two of you are seen together like that again, no matter  _who_  instigated this, he  _will_ bear the punishment. Am I clear?"

Morgana nodded once more. "Yes, my lord."

"Good." Sighing, he nodded at Arthur. "Release him and make  _sure_  he knows what I have told Morgana."

Arthur dipped his head respectfully although Morgana could tell he was relieved. "Yes, sire."

* * *

Merlin watched as Gaius left the dungeon, his heart heavy. He had just talked to his guardian, who was aghast at Merlin's condition and all that had happened. He, too, agreed that escape from Camelot was looking to be the only option if something didn't change soon. Merlin would miss Gaius – hell, he'd even miss  _Arthur_  – if he had to run, but at least he could go with the knowledge that after Arthur was king, he'd be able to see them – hopefully Gaius would still be around – once more.

Only ten minutes or so had passed since Gaius's reluctant retreat back to his own chambers to try and gather some supplies for Merlin's journey should he have to escape. Merlin's aching head jerked up as he heard footsteps and voices. He strained his ears as the sounds grew closer and the eye that wasn't swollen shut widened as he recognized Arthur's voice.

"—you for doing what you did. It can't have been easy, but you did the right thing."

Who was he talking to?

He got his answer moments later when Arthur and Morgana walked into the dungeons. Merlin, his back still against the wall, straightened, the chains clinking as he did so. "Arthur?" he said softly. "What's going on?"

Arthur didn't respond immediately. Instead he addressed the guards standing watch over Merlin's cell. "Your presence is no longer required. The king has ordered that the prisoner be released."

Merlin felt a wave of relief wash over him. Uther was freeing him? He got to stay in Camelot? His knees were weak as he sagged slightly against the cold stone wall behind him for support. _How did this happen?_

The guards gone, Arthur hurried to the cell door while Morgana stayed where she was, several feet back, her eyes guarded as she watched. There was the jangle of a key in the lock and the door swung open. Before Merlin could say anything, Arthur was at his side, steadying hand lightly gripping his elbow. A voice that sounded like Arthur's – but much too shaky – muttered, "You alright, then?"

Merlin nodded and said with a watery smile. "Yeah."

And then Arthur was unlocking the shackles that squeezed his bloody wrists. When Merlin was free of the chains he rubbed his wrists, staining his palms red as he did so. Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and Merlin fought to keep his knees from buckling. "Thanks," Merlin added.

Arthur shook his head. "Don't thank me – it was Morgana. She was the one who convinced my father not to go through with it."

Merlin was dumbfounded but Arthur didn't notice. Instead the prince clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Right, well, get yourself cleaned up and let Gaius take a look at your injury."

Merlin let out a small chuckle that echoed in the cell. "I thought you didn't care."

"I don't," Arthur snapped far too quickly. "But it's hard enough to look at you when half of your face isn't black and blue, so get it fixed, will you?" Merlin snorted.  _Good old Arthur._

"Prat," he said fondly.

Arthur glared at him before mussing his hair, which Merlin promptly tried to flatten, pouting. "Idiot," Arthur said.

Merlin smirked and started to leave the cell but Arthur grabbed his upper arm and said earnestly, "We did what we could but you are now on an even shorter leash with my father. He told me to tell you that if you put another toe out of line, or if he sees you and Morgana like that again, or anything remotely similar, he  _will_  kill you." Arthur looked at his servant for a long moment before swallowing thickly. "And I don't know if I'll be able to do anything to help you if he condemns you to death again."

Merlin nodded. "Thanks, Arthur."

Arthur snorted. "Someone's got to keep you out of trouble, eh? Otherwise, who else is going to clean my armor?" With that, Arthur left the cell and headed for the exit of the dungeons, Merlin following behind him.

The servant stopped, however, when he saw Morgana standing back, staring at him with an unreadable expression in her blue-grey eyes. He glanced at the door before moving closer. She stiffened but did not back away. When he stood barely a foot away from her, he looked her in the eyes and said solemnly, "Thank you."

Apparently Morgana had not been expecting this. Her beautiful eyes widened and she took a tentative step forward. Merlin's heart and mind were racing. This was reminding him too much of what had happened between them before. The connection was there, the remnants of the old Morgana that he thought long gone.

Her lips parted slightly and she breathed, "For what, exactly?"

"I think you know," Merlin half-smiled. He moved a bit closer and kissed her softly on the cheek. "I knew you weren't all gone," he said, almost to himself. He stepped back and away as he heard Arthur's voice yelling from somewhere in the corridor outside the dungeons.

"Hurry up, you two, or my father might start getting suspicious again!"

"Merlin—" Morgana said as the warlock moved to turn away.

He slowly moved back to face her, his eyebrows lifted. "Yes?"

"Do you—"

" _Mer_ lin!  _Now!_ "

Merlin kept his eyes on Morgana's face. "If you have something to say," he said, "now's the time to say it."

Morgana bit her lip. "Never mind."

Merlin bit back a smile. "I felt it too," he replied to her unspoken question, knowing what she was wondering. "Your kiss," he said slowly, "felt… right." Even in the dark, he could see the woman's pale cheeks flush red. "But," he added as he started to back toward the door, his eyes never leaving hers, "don't think this changes anything, Morgana. No matter what you or I may or may not feel… if you ever try to hurt Arthur or this kingdom again, I  _will_  stop you."

Morgana nodded curtly, looking a little more like her old self. "I would expect nothing less."

" _MER_ LIN!"

Merlin turned and walked out of the dungeon without another word.

* * *

Morgana stood in silence in the cold dungeon for several moments, unmoving. The sound of footsteps reminded her that the guards were coming back and she shook herself back to reality. She couldn't get his words, his face, his  _kiss_  out of her mind.

_I knew you weren't all gone._

_No matter what you or I may or may not feel…_

_I_ will _stop you_.

She nodded to the guards as she passed them on her way out of the dungeon, her mind still whirring. Her cheek felt hot where his lips had ever so gently brushed her silky skin. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing that she saved Merlin, after all.

Recalling his promise to watch Arthur's back, she smiled – if nothing else, he would be an interesting adversary.

His words echoed back to her once more.  _I knew you weren't all gone…_

* * *

That night, as she tried to get to sleep, images of what once had been flashed in and out of her mind. Going with Merlin and Arthur to kill the Afanc. Traveling to Ealdor to help Merlin's village. Merlin bringing her flowers and helping her find the druids.

What would have happened if he hadn't poisoned her, if she hadn't had her eyes opened by Morgause?

For the first time in a long time, Morgana truly found herself aching to know what would have happened had she not changed so drastically.  _Not all gone…_

As she finally drifted off to sleep, she found herself seriously wondering for the first time if perhaps what Merlin had said about her – about them, about Camelot – held a little morsel of truth after all.

**~THE END~**


End file.
